


Forever's a Long Time

by ElphabaInTheTARDIS



Category: Edgar Allan Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Poe Party Secret Santa 2017, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 11:50:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13099488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElphabaInTheTARDIS/pseuds/ElphabaInTheTARDIS
Summary: "Forever's a long time, but far from enough time to spend with you."--"Falling", Oh GravityPrompt:Wellenore. What does a romance between two ghost even look like.





	Forever's a Long Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Realmer06](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Realmer06/gifts).



> Secret Santa gift for Intelligencehavingfun on tumblr. If you have an AO3 account let me know and I'll gift it to you here, too :)

Adjusting to the afterlife was something that H.G. was struggling with.

It wouldn’t be as bad if Lenore didn’t think it was absolutely hilarious.

 

The first time H.G. had tried to pick up something (a book, of all things) he’d failed. Again and again he tried but he just couldn’t seem to get the knack of it.

Lenore had giggled at him and then told him to focus on the book. She told him to remember what a book felt like...all leather and pages and...nerdy. He’d nearly had it when she’d said “nerdy” and he lost his concentration when his head snapped up to see the teasing look on Lenore’s face.

 

This became a regular occurrence, much to H.G.’s chagrin and Lenore’s amusement.

 

Besides the occasional failing to grasp an object, life was normal. As normal as life with 3 ghosts and 1 eccentric shut-in writer could be that is.

Normal was good. Normal was calm. Collected.

 

Until it was...well...boring.

 

***

Several months had passed since the dinner party and H.G. and Annabel’s return. No one in the house really spoke of what had happened that night. It had been horrible for everyone involved.

Lenore didn’t like to think about that night. Like ever. First she’d held H.G. while he literally _died_ in her arms. And then Annabel had died in Edgar’s arms. If it had been one of her romance novels she would have cried and called it “totally tragic.”

 

But it wasn’t a novel. This was her life.

 

But unlike those novels (or maybe like them...they always got a happy ending. Why shouldn’t she get her happily ever after, too?) H.G. and Annabel came back. They weren’t alive, but they were there.

Had there been more time the night of the party would things have ended differently? Lenore thought about that night a lot. She remembered the almost tortured way H.G. had told her he’d be extremely sad, too.

If she’d had more time that night would she have been able to protect him?

Would she have been able to stop him from dying?

 

Lenore didn’t like thinking about those things. So instead she threw herself back into cooking. Just not soup. Never soup. Not again.

 

There were much nicer things to think about, anyways. Like how H.G. looked cute when he was concentrating over his research. The way his eyebrows scrunched in concentration. The way his eyes lit up when he came up with a breakthrough. And most importantly, the way he said her name.

He hadn’t called her his “dear” Lenore since that night. But she knew he was also trying to forget that night. Plus like, she was secure enough to know that what happened between her and H.G. that night was real.

 

She was lost in her thoughts while chopping vegetables when the door to the kitchen burst open, startling her.

 

“Oh, Lenore...um...I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you...I was just wondering if…”

 

Lenore turned around to see the frantic but excited face of H.G.. She smiled and set her knife down. “Geez, H.G.. If I wasn’t already dead you’d give a girl a heart attack, you know that?”

 

The rest of H.G.’s exclamation died on his lips. Instead he found himself (once again) staring at her. She was...well...she was beautiful.

 

And he had no idea how to tell her that without sounding like a complete idiot.

 

He’d gone over the very scenario in her head multiple times. Most times it ended with Lenore telling him he was very sweet but that she only wanted a friend after all that had happened with Guy. He’d even gone to Annabel for advice...and her advice had been to come talk to Lenore about everything. And thus, here he was.

(after having paced the length of the attic a dozen times while he worked up the courage to ask her to join him on a trip as a sort of date.)

And now he didn’t know what to do or say. And before he could stop himself he felt the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

 

“Well I was...um...I was wondering if...if you would perhaps be interested in…”

 

And that was when Edgar chose to burst through the door. And with H.G. being well, a ghost, Edgar ran straight through him.

That would never not be weird.

 

* * *

 

H.G. spent the next few weeks fretting. And analyzing. And over analyzing. Then analyzing again.

 

Annabel told him he was reading too much into everything. Edgar was oblivious to anything going on. Lenore...well Lenore was Lenore. H.G. wasn’t sure what she thought about him. Or this. Or anything.

Thus the pacing and the analyzing and the trying to figure out how to talk to her about everything.

 

He was becoming better at being corporeal. Now he could hold onto objects without dropping them with consistency. It was only when Lenore would brush into him or if he caught her staring at him that he’d suddenly lose his concentration and whatever he was holding would drop to the floor.

 

He had been banned from holding anything breakable by both Lenore and Annabel.

 

Lenore, of course, had noticed that H.G. seemed to drop things whenever she was around. It was adorable. She made it a point to run into him as much as possible until Annabel told her if he broke one more teacup she was going to force her to go shopping for new ones with Edgar.

 

Shopping with Edgar would be a fate worse than death. And she was already dead.

 

It wasn’t until a few weeks later when a frustrated (but patient, always patient) Annabel sat her down and told her that H.G. actually didn’t know that Lenore cared for him that Lenore started to put the pieces together.

(Annabel also threatened to lock her and H.G. in a room together until they figured things out and even though Lenore knew they were all ghosts and a locked door wouldn’t stop them...she knew better than to go against Annabel.)

 

Lenore formed a plan quickly. It was slightly evil...but only in the best way possible. Also it would be hella amusing for her, so why not?

 

(When Edgar questioned Annabel later about Lenore’s smirk she simply patted his hand and told him all would be well.)

 

* * *

It started slowly. Lenore told H.G. that he needed to learn to interact with things that weren’t things, but people. After all, what were they going to do whenever Annabel convinced Edgar that he simply _must_ have another dinner party and guests showed up and H.G. wasn’t able to interact with them?

(H.G.’s protests about not touching other people went unheard.)

(“Come on, goggles. You know Hemingway is going to try to get you involved in some sort of sports thing and you can’t just ignore him. He gets hella annoying when you ignore him.”)

Thus H.G. slowly began concentrating on interacting with other people.

 

By other people, he course meant Annabel and Lenore. Mostly Lenore. Edgar found the entire thing too _weird_ and wanted no part of it.

 

The first time he finally mastered it and he looked down at his hand holding Lenore’s he felt something almost like a jolt of electricity flow through him and he immediately lost all concentration and then his hand passed through hers once more.

Lenore would smile at him and tell him to try again. And again. And again.

And then finally it worked. They were holding hands. Rather awkwardly, but it worked.

 

H.G. smiled...not a shy smile or a nervous smile, but his face lit up with the realization that he’d done it.

 

Lenore wasn’t sure what her motivated her in that moment but she reached up and kissed him.

 

And in his shock he fell through the floor.

 

When he returned upstairs, Lenore was still laughing.

 

“We’ll work on that.”

 

And they did. And in the coming weeks it became easier. And H.G. realized that his fears had been for nothing. They had each other...and there was no greater gift than that.


End file.
